


Dust In Your Pocket

by orphan_account



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Convenience Store, Burns, Cold-Related Injuries, Denial of Feelings, Depression, Emotional support animal, Homelessness, M/M, Mild Blood, Mild Sexual Content, Permanent Injury, Relapsing, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-27 22:52:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17170970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Josh hates the kid with the fucked up hands.





	1. In a Maze

**Author's Note:**

> in which tyler is the fawn and josh is the one that lets him see.

Josh is a fucking joke, man. 

He’s been told it his whole life, so he’s come to embrace the fact because he lives in his car and bums cigarettes off of whoever he can. 

He’s the epitome of what every parent tells their child not to become. 

He’s not addicted to drugs or sex, but he won’t turn them down.  
He IS still human. 

And to him, every human can find something to hate about Christmas.  
The cold. The stress. Family. Money. 

Right now, it’s the blistering wind and tiny little snowflakes that enter through slits in his windows and settle on his neck. 

His head cracks against the window and one of these days he hopes it’ll just fall out. More snowflakes pile on his forehead. 

He stares at the peeling fabric above him, wondering if this will be the Christmas he finally fucking kicks the bucket on. 

Instead, his body moves and he’s kicking his car door open to lumber across the street with a death wish and $3 to his name. 

It’s called Stop ‘n’ Shop, though it Josh doesn’t think anyone could ever shop. He’d pump gas there if his car didn’t have four slashed tires and a busted battery. 

The warmth is nice, though. Maybe he’ll ask for the bathroom key and stay the night. 

_Joshua Dun,_ he tells himself. The cashier blinks at him like he’s a surprise. 

_Maybe_ , he thinks. Scraggly, half-dyed hair much overdue for a wash, tattered clothes. He probably doesn’t smell the best, either.  
Like cigarettes and self-loathing. 

Josh avoids eye contact because he doesn’t like to see the confusion or pity in people’s eyes when they ask him about himself.  
Or how he’s doing.  
Or where he’s living.  
His job.  
His family. 

Because, like he’s said multiple times before, _he doesn’t fucking have any of those._

He doesn’t think the cashier at a shitty, run down gas station store will give a damn about his personal life anyways. 

Tonight, it’s stale donuts that look like they were stocked years ago.  
He’s eaten worse. 

“Uh, $2.55,” the cashier glances at him briefly while tapping buttons on the register with those fucked up little fingers of his. 

He’s seen them before. Just fascinated.

Patchy with puffy scars that lead all the way down to his petite wrists. One of them has a bandage leading up his forearm.

Josh wonders what kind of shitty skin condition that is.  
He hands over the money without thinking too much about them. 

“Have a nice night, man. And um, merry Christmas,” He’s small. Chestnut hair and big eyes that say _‘I really mean it’_ and a pixie nose that’s flushed even though it’s quite warm, but those fucking _hands-_

“Thanks.” Josh nods and heads back into the cold even though he doesn’t want to. 

The wind smacks his face like his mom did the day he left. 

•

Dinner (if you could call it that) is lonely. Josh sits cross-legged in the back of his car and watches his windows fog up. Sometimes he wants to stop breathing just so he can see outside. 

The donuts are stale, which he expected. He wipes powdered sugar on his jeans and sticks his legs over the middle console. 

And thinks about that kid and his stupid hands. 

He’s stared before, purposefully. Far too long and sure to raise questions if it were anyone else, but the kid just kept pressing buttons on the register and making small talk. 

Josh hates him. Too humble, too _delicate_ , he thinks, feeling the scratchy stubble that’s been on his face for months. It never really grows. 

He picks grime out of his nails and listens to the wind whistle through cracks in his windows. 

Sometimes he punches them out of anger. 

_‘Homeless insomniac dies alone on Christmas’._ He snorts at his own joke. 

He can’t complain about the cold. Summer always brings sticky heat and leftover red dye running down his back.  
At least he can take his shirt off, though.

Maybe he’ll bathe tomorrow. The park fountain’s been frozen for days now, but he’s sure he’ll get lucky the next day. 

Hypothermia is just a side effect of being clean. 

Josh stretches out, feeling bones crack and muscles ache. Cars aren’t comfortable for sleeping. He leans in the back seat and watches a spider create a web in the deteriorating fabric of the ceiling. 

Sometimes he sees things, but this time he’s for sure it’s real.

It’s almost finished when someone’s pounding on his window. 

The spider shakes and gets cut from its web, landing somewhere on the floor. Josh kicks the door behind him open to see Brendon cursing at the cold and kicking ice chunks.

“Hey man,” He mumbles, running a hand through his greasy hair. “what’s-“

“Josh, thank fuck, I need you to hide me again, please?”

Josh blinks. “Sure, hop in.” 

He doesn’t ask questions.  
Brendon gets in trouble with drug dealers and mob bosses daily, but no one ever suspects the homeless kid’s car. 

He slides in the front seat and shivers. “Thanks, man, I really ‘preciate it.”  
Josh wonders where his spider went. 

He sits back and watches it crawl up the back of the seat. Good.  
“Who is it?” 

“My old dealer. Found out I was reselling his shit for more, then came after me,” Brendon chuckles and tucks his coat around him. “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything.” He knows Josh wasn’t sleeping. 

“Nah,” He shakes his head. “are you..are you doin’ anything for Christmas?”

“Yeah,” Brendon shakes snow from his hair. “‘m taking Sarah to one of those fancy shows, y’know? Thinking about proposing. She’s been real good to me.” 

Josh nods in understanding. Sarah was kind. Always gave Josh a pity look, but she took care of him whenever Brendon invited him over. 

“You got a smoke?” 

“Oh-yeah, here. Early present, from me.”  
Josh gets a whole box of cigs tossed at him. He nearly starts shaking from relapse. 

Brendon chats and Josh listens, then it’s safe for him to leave.  
He chainsmokes the whole pack until sunrise. 

It’s awful-they’re cancer sticks, no doubt-but Josh feels looser knowing there’s smoke in his lungs and tobacco on his tongue. 

He wonders if chestnut boy smokes, with his crippled-looking fingers and pretty eyes. 

Probably not.


	2. Eager-Eyed (In the Milky Haze)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which tyler is more aware than once thought.

The next day Josh is ballsy. He’s fired up on the whole pack of cigs he relapsed on and _boy_ , he’s ready to go. 

He hasn’t smoked in 2 months. 

His breath reminds him of his fog-filled car last night that smells even worse than it did. _He_ smells even worse than he usually does. 

Josh walks into the Stop ‘n’ Shop with no money, purely intent on talking to the only thing that was on his mind last night. 

Chestnut boy is standing bored behind the counter, a cheek resting on his fist.

“Hey, uh,” he starts like he’s saying something casual, and the boy perks up, dragging his eyes from the phone in his _stupid_ little _delicate_ fucked up hand. 

“What the fuck is up with those hands, dude?” 

Josh finally reads his name tag. It reads _Tyler_ and he almost groans because that name suits him _too_ well and he just.  
fucking.  
hates this kid. 

Tyler looks at him to see if he’s joking, then laughs a bit himself. 

“Accident at my old work,” He informs him vaguely. His eyes don’t give much for the imagination. 

“Wanna elaborate?” Josh spits. He doesn’t really know why he’s being such an ass. Probably the relapse because he knows he doesn’t have enough for more. 

“I dipped ‘em in fryer oil. Got some skin grafts, then they never healed right, I guess.” Tyler doesn’t take his eyes off his phone. 

“Why the hell would you do that?” 

The brunette turns his head and frowns. “Dunno. Wanted to feel something? Maybe.” 

Josh doesn’t understand. 

“You ever hurt yourself for fun? Bet you do.” now he’s spouting out the dagger words and Josh is getting stabbed. “I just did it permanently.” 

“Why the fuck would it be your business?” He snaps back. This is _stupid_. _He’s_ stupid. 

“You’re the one who came in digging into MY life.” Tyler looks at him with those dumb little eyes like Bambi. Like he’s the sweet little victim. He sees right through Josh’s heart and soul so he just fucking leaves. 

Slams the door and leaves Tyler pleasantly surprised. 

He still hates him because he makes his heart do things they haven’t done in years. 

So he goes and pouts to his car because that DEFINITELY didn’t go the way he wanted to since Tyler actually has a mouth on him. 

He sits on top of the roof, his hood over his head and snow drifting lazily on his holed up Vans.  
It’s too cold for this, but he’s mad. 

He watches the glow of the store through the haze, blinking slow and steaming quietly. 

His mood perks when he sees a figure step out. 

But it’s coming straight for him. 

“Are you still alive you big baby?” Tyler steps onto the sidewalk and looks up at him. “thought you’d be a statue by now. I’ve been watching.” He gestures to the big window surrounding his corner. 

Josh doesn’t reply, but stares. 

Tyler narrows his eyes. “I’ll be in the store if you need me, I guess.” He shrugs. “Kinda lonely,” like it’s an invitation and damn it Josh finds himself stumbling after his chestnut boy like a lost puppy. 

Tyler rewards him with a free drink and a bag of chips. Josh wants to purr. 

“So how long?” 

“What?” Josh snarfs down the chips in record time, but takes care with his 21 ounces of pure sugar water. (Pepsi). 

“How long’ve you been homeless?” 

That stops him. He wipes his mouth and frowns. “Long time, I guess. Maybe 4 years? 5?” 

“How could you tell?” He likes hearing these responses and asks frequently. 

“The hair. Your outfit. The fact that I watched you go sit on top of a shitty car and pout in this awful weather.” Tyler reaches behind the counter and comes back up rubbing what looks like lotion on his hands. 

Josh stares. He’s really gotta stop doing that. 

“They get dry,” Tyler explains for him. “The oil kinda burned away a lot of skin, and nerves.” He shrugs. “It’s a small price to pay but at least I still have them.” 

Josh wonders what the brunette’s hands might’ve looked like. They’re petite, like the rest of him.  
He imagines soft, delicate touches. 

Why would someone tear that away from themselves? 

He goes back to his Pepsi. 

“So,” Tyler rests his elbows on the counter, fists pushing his cheeks up. “if we’re gonna be best friends, why don’t I let you take a shower?” 

Josh stops. “You’re joking?” He doesn’t know whether he’s talking about the friendship or shower but Tyler answers for him. 

Chestnut boy-no, chestnut _angel_ , shakes his head. “We have employee showers in the back. For overnight shifts and emergencies.” 

Josh wants to fucking cry but instead he nods. “I’ll get my other clothes.” 

Tyler tilts his head. “Give me your old ones and I’ll wash them.” 

Pity pity pity but Josh soaks it up right now. 

• 

He hasn’t showered in 4 months. That’s the last time Brendon invited him over. Usually he just washes the best he can in the huge fountain at the park, but it never truly gets the job done. 

Not unless he wants to get arrested for public nudity. 

No, this is much better. 

He watches all the dirt and grease and grime wash down the tiny drain and just wants to stay forever. 

His hair gets the best scrubbing it’s seen in a while, only because Josh is actually trying. 

Most of the time, he has no one to impress but himself. 

So, pretty low standards. 

But now there’s an angel with pretty lips and a biting voice that Josh wants to please. 

There’s a pair of scarred hands he wants to kiss and eyes he wants to fall asleep looking into but. 

They’ve only just met. 

Josh rests his head on the shower wall and is afraid to close his eyes. 

If he closes them he might wake up from this dream. 

He smells good when he walks out, wearing (mostly) clean clothes he had in his car. He fidgets with the hem of his t-shirt while Tyler clicks his tongue. 

“No jacket?” 

“That’s the only one I have,” He points to the red hoodie in Tyler’s arms. 

“You can stay at my place tonight and I’ll fix you up,” the brunette starts to busy himself with locking up. Night fell so fast. “You don’t mind dogs, do you?” 

“Wha-why?” Josh’s face contorts. “We barely just met. What if I’m a murderer or kidnapper?” 

Tyler stands up from behind the counter. He thinks. “Well..are you a murderer or kidnapper?” 

“No.” 

“Good!” He smiles and Josh sees a row of crooked teeth that he immediately adores. “Now let me do this nice thing for you and go wait in my car. It’s the silver one parked near the alley. With the hatchback.” 

Josh can’t believe he follows. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don’t trust


	3. Sloppily at Ease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he doesn’t mean well, but neither of them do.

Tyler’s house is nice. 

He tells Josh it’s not a house, but an apartment, but he still loves it. 

A dog steps up to greet them when Tyler unlocks the door, wagging its tail softly. 

“Hi baby,” The brunette murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss against his golden fur. The dog wears a harness and collar that look professional. Josh wonders what he’s for.

“Josh, this is Biscuit. My complex doesn’t allow animals, but he’s my ESA.” 

Josh gives Biscuit a pat on the head, which he seems satisfied by.  
“ESA?” He questions, eyes drinking in the quietly modest place surrounding him. 

“Emotional Support Animal,” Tyler tells him from a different room. “I struggled with some..stuff a while back, and he helps when my hands give out sometimes.”  
He steps back out into the living room and mumbles something about buying more laundry detergent. 

Biscuit looks up at Josh with gleaming eyes like, _‘are you permanent?’_ and he sure hopes he isn’t. 

“He’s sweet.” He’ll give him that. Biscuit seems to take the praise as enough and trots back to Tyler. 

“So,” He can tell Josh doesn’t know what to do. “you can sit. I’m gonna order a pizza, d’you have any specifics?” 

Josh shakes his head. He still can’t believe he’s here. He doesn’t want to touch anything but sits gently on Tyler’s couch. 

Biscuit lays by Tyler’s feet as he calls the pizza place and watches Josh. 

This will be a long night. 

•

“You’re so,” Tyler scrunches up his face when he settles next to Josh, crossing his legs underneath him.  
“careful.” 

Josh looks up in surprise. “I just don’t want to..hurt anything,” he mutters. 

Tyler hums. The TV in front of them plays softly while Biscuit gnaws on a toy at Tyler’s feet. 

“I’m not doing this because I like you.”

“I figured,” Josh turns his head. 

“I just care.” Tyler’s eyes stay on the screen. 

“You and every other soft soul.” 

“Just because it’s Christmas.” He blinks slow. “Any other time and I would’ve left you to freeze on that damn car.”

“I figured,” Josh echoes himself. 

Three knocks and the pizza’s there so no one talks anymore. 

•

 _This is all pity_ , Josh tells himself. 

_Tyler’s trying to make him feel better_ , he says in his mind, eating the food the brunette bought for them. 

_Pity_ , he tries to remember when Tyler’s nestled on his lap, kissing him and _touching_ him with those _hands_. Saying his name like a mantra.  
Like a prayer. 

Josh doesn’t lie. He kisses him back. It’s good to feel someone else’s body, to have another so eager to meld into his.

But it feels wrong.

Tyler feels him and promises him and _tries too hard._

And when he’s invited into Tyler’s bed with a huff he has to decline. 

He’s flustered and red but his chestnut boy blinks his sleepy eyes and nods.  
He looks unsatisfied and Josh feels shitty for leaving him excited.  
He watches Tyler’s lips and reminds himself that he made them swollen. 

Biscuit follows him without a second glance. 

Josh’s mouth tastes like pizza and sandpaper. 

He doesn’t sleep, or really even feel.  
He listens to rustling in the walls and wonders if Tyler has already forgotten him. 

He should’ve taken the offer but instead he finds himself grabbing his shit at 4 AM and leaving everything the way it was. 

•

He hated that. 

He sits in his freezing car, body adjusted to warmth too much already. 

His clothes are soft and clean against his skin equally. 

He feels normal, except for Tyler’s touches that still burn against his skin and he wants to scratch them away. 

Josh fucking hates him. 

So he takes those nail clippers (the ones with the _scraper_ ) in his glove box and shoves them in his skin and stains the clothes that were washed so delicately for him. 

_“Bet you do.”_

Tyler was right. He’s too fucking smart for his own good. 

He cries and throws a pity party for himself because _Tyler_ made him do this. 

He pulls his hair and tries to yell but the only things he can see are those eyes. 

He hates himself because _Tyler_ made him feel good. 

_Tyler_ , with his big stupid eyes and welcoming attitude. Always trying to be nice even though he wasn’t. 

Josh watches himself bleed in spite. 

He can’t wait for the morning, because something’s gotta give. 

And he’s ready.


	4. Icing the Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry sorry sorry is all he ever heard.

Josh’s stomach yells at him at noon and he hates Tyler for feeding him. 

He could go a day and a half without much, but after stuffing his face last night he feels like a spoiled kid begging for more. 

And it’s all Tyler’s fault. 

He thinks about him a lot. Staring at the congealed blood covering his arms, he scowls. It’s gross.

He hopes Tyler isn’t working today because if he doesn’t clean these he’ll get an infection. 

They hurt, but blood poisoning hurts more. 

He lets out a sigh of pure fucking relief when he sees a different face working the counter.

“Hey, I just-need to use the bathroom,” He mutters, glancing at a name tag with _Colin_ scribbled on it. 

“Sure thing, dude.” He runs a hand through his dark curly hair and passes the key over to Josh. 

The bathroom is colder than he remembers.   
Pink-tinted water flows down the drain and Josh is happy to forget. 

Wearing bandages of paper towels, he hands the key back to Colin. 

But wait. 

He really wants to just push the glass door open and leave, go cry or punch something in his car, but he does this anyway and groans internally. 

“Um, where’s Tyler?” 

Colin seems surprised. “He called in sick,” He raises an eyebrow. “you a friend of his? I didn’t think he got out much.” 

Josh shakes his head and leaves. 

•

Josh throws up everything that was in his stomach once he reaches his car. 

He shivers from cold and convulses, coughing up bile. 

_Fuck Tyler._

He wipes his mouth and leans back against the building adjacent to his car. 

His breath is harsh and ragged, eyes squeezing out tears that he couldn’t afford. 

He doesn’t know why it hurts so much, but it does. 

He’s the one that feels betrayed when Tyler has done nothing wrong. 

From a normal sense. 

Josh’s head starts to tell him different things and the shapes start to swirl in his eyes. 

His fingers are blue. 

This is dumb, he thinks. He doesn’t shiver anymore. 

It’s the middle of the day and Josh is trying to kill himself.   
Selfish bastard. 

TylerTylerTyler runs through his head and he needs to MOVE. 

Someone asks if he’s ‘all right, man’ but he can’t respond. 

His eyes blink slower each time, but now it feels like snow is gluing his eyelashes shut. It hurts. 

He shouldn’t have left, his brain screams at him. 

His cuts burn and Tyler’s touches are gone. 

“Josh?” 

Wind whistles in his ears but he _thinks_ he can hear a voice.

He feels even more selfish because he doesn’t sense remorse at thinking about the poor sap who will find his corpse. 

Then his body finally gives up and his head slumps down. Victim to the snowflakes. 

Frost wants to encompass him like a blanket, but the other form won’t let it. 

Shame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> c o m m e n t


	5. Lifts Her Hands to the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they’ll never be happy.

Josh sees the chestnut angel’s eyes when he wakes up and he groans. 

“You?” He croaks, head tossed back. 

“Wha-are you serious?”  
Josh gets a good look at Tyler’s face and wants to snort. 

It’s obvious he’s been crying but he won’t show it. 

“You were almost fucking _dead_ , you asshole!” 

“Yeah,” Josh quips. “that was the point.” 

He hates making Tyler’s bottom lip quiver and his eyes sad but he’s bitter. 

Biscuit sits at attention by Tyler’s side and doesn’t take an eye off him. 

“I hope you’ll come to thank me one day,” He mutters, and leaves, Biscuit at his heels. 

Josh assesses the room he’s in. Tyler’s bedroom, he assumes. 

It’s simple. The bed he’s in is comfortable, and he’s wrapped in many layers. His skin still shivers, though. 

He was so close. 

So fucking close but god DAMN Tyler and his kind heart. 

Speak of the devil, he steps back in with puffy eyes and glares. “Why do you play games?” His hands shake without purpose. 

Josh doesn’t answer. He knows the brunette just wants to press and press and keep _talking_. He hates that. 

“With me?” 

Tyler’s standing at full attention, his expression hard.

“I thought,” He starts, voice quivering for a split second.  
“you cared.” 

“Why?” Josh spits this out like venom. 

“Why would I care?”

He’s furious. “Why would I care when you’ve been nothing but an acquaintance to me? Almost a fuckbuddy, if you were lucky.” 

Tyler pales. “You know I was-“

“Yeah I know,” Josh is nearly standing and he shakes. “I know what you were doing. You felt _bad_ , so you tried to _help_ , but I know better.” 

He wants to hear Tyler’s heart crack as if it’ll give him some sort of relief. 

“You’re just like everyone else,” He scoffs. “you don’t care. You just want a pretty clean conscience because _you helped the homeless boy_.” He’s sneering and Tyler’s watching with watery eyes and Biscuit starts to bark when Josh yells. 

“Get out,” Tyler isn’t strong. At all. Josh won. 

He’s is standing tall and he shivers in his still cold skin. 

“Get OUT, Josh.” Tears spill over those angelic little cheeks. 

He really doesn’t want to do this, but it’s like helping a wild animal.

And injured wild animal. 

But it’s another good tick on his conscience.

Tyler cries and pulls his hair and all Josh can taste is teeth but he can feel his mouth steady the brunette’s. 

He lets Josh hold him and he spits curses but Biscuit whines in confusion below them. 

“Fuck you,” He sniffs. “asshole.” 

“Yeah.” Josh blinks. He kisses him again because, hell, why not? He can. 

Tyler’s just showing him that he already owns him.

He’s too simple. 

“Keep me?” And Tyler nods. 

•

He lets Josh kiss his hands. From his fingertips to his wrists. Like maybe his lips could heal the scars. 

He lets him kiss everywhere. He lets him delve into the deepest parts of his life and allows him to nestle and remember. 

His pain. His happiness. His heart. 

Sometimes he feels that Josh doesn’t have one. 

He’s cold and empty and everything is always an act. 

But he kisses him and sometimes Josh even brings him flowers like a normal boyfriend. And they’re always his favorite. 

Tyler lets Josh touch and press and question and answer and feel as much as he pleases because they both know damn well that Tyler’s head over heels. 

And Josh hates it. 

He hates every bit about Tyler, and loves it all at the same time. 

They live in coexistence. Josh works, has a job. Tyler works, comes home. Takes care of his one and only. 

They burn Josh’s car. And everything in it. He had no remorse but Tyler still turned away. 

Josh doesn’t act different. He’s not a happier man, with a wonderful life and unending excitement.

He’s miserable. He’ll always be. Soulless and cruel and showing it daily. 

Tyler won’t ever let him live it down. 

He smokes as much as he wants, drinks as much as he wants.  
He can do anything.

And he’ll never be happy again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the shitty ending.
> 
> i could make it up with a backstory for tyler   
> ifpeoplewantedit


End file.
